Noxian
by GoG ToXiC
Summary: She ran her fingers along the fractured edge of her weapon, feeling where it had once been whole. "I buried a piece of Noxus a long time ago." When she turned back to face Katarina, there was a fire burning in her eyes – one that been snuffed out by chemical wrath so many years ago, finally reignited. "I think it's time we lay what's left to rest." Rivelia


_Thanks goes out to Aggression for Beta'ing this for me. Turns out I suck with apostrophe's._

_Credit goes to beanbean1988 of deviantart for the spectacular cover._

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><p>Noxian<p>

Noxians didn't fear. The thought was stuck in Riven's head, lingering in the depths of her mind and breaking down her attempts at meditation. _She_ had taught Riven the art of meditation, believing it could help her come to terms with the horrific memories of her past and find some semblance of peace within herself. And though she'd initially obliged the woman out of mere politeness, she'd quickly found the technique did exactly as promised. But here, in this moment, it was all but useless. It reminded Riven of _her,_ and how far away she was, and how damn useless Riven felt as she struggled to meditate in some hidden grove while _she _fought in a war for her homeland. It kept drawing her back to the same point:

Noxians- true Noxians – didn't fear.

Oh, a Noxian could face the same pre-battle jitters anybody else would when marching into war, and hold the same sense of trepidation when faced with the looming spectre of death. But never fear. Never this overwhelming sense of utter helplessness; never this complete inability to protect the second lease on life she'd been gifted. Never the inability to protect that which she held closest to the heart. A Noxian would never cower in a forest, fueling their own fears like a whimpering child.

Lately, Riven hadn't felt very Noxian.

(NTN)

Logic implied that there should be no danger. Noxus had already invaded Ionia once, with the backing of Zaun as well, and in her stand at the placidium Irelia had almost singlehandedly wiped the majority of the Noxian force out. It stood to reason, that an arguably past its prime Noxus, without the support of Zaun, without the element of surprise, and against a prepared Ionia, should accomplish absolutely nothing. On paper, the second invasion reeked of desperation – a last effort powerplay to try and put the city-state back on the map of a world that was evolving past it. But this wasn't Noxus, on the assault. This was Jericho Swain's Noxus, forged as much in deceit and treachery as it was in strength. And as much as she despised the man, Riven knew beyond doubt that he would have answers to every factor that had contributed to the downfall of the first attack. The fleet never would have launched otherwise. Irelia was stronger than any sword wielding thug born of Swain's Noxus, but… Riven still couldn't seem to shake the growing pit of discomfort gnawing at her from within. It all seemed too easy.

When a disillusioned and fleeing Katarina Du Couteau arrived on Ionian shores with her siblings in tow and news of a second Noxian invasion, the Ionian elders had not hesitated. Far too much death had graced their lands the first time around for anything but preparation to take precedence. They had acted quickly, mobilizing an organized and well trained defense force seemingly out of nowhere, and bolstering it with well-trained freelancer's hired from across Valoran. Demacia had not hesitated to offer its support, supplying a budding and invigorated Ionian war machine with the materials and training necessary to maximize their fighting effectiveness, and troops to reinforce their shores were promised as soon as they could be mustered.

This too, Riven refused to believe Swain could not anticipate.

Swain had not risen to the title of Grand General by allowing loose ends to run unchecked, and Riven knew that there was a method to his madness. The first battles had gone well. Exceedingly well. Far too well to be lost by anything but Swain's own purposeful direction. Because Swain's Noxus was not Noxus, and did not think or act like Noxus, and that made it so much more threatening.

She should be on the battlefield. A Noxian would not allow her loved ones to stand alone in times of war, and a Noxian would not allow those who would harm them to remain anything less than dead. But a Noxian would also not turn her blade against her own nation in war, and when Irelia had offered her the opportunity to stay away from the war, with the promise that she would never think any less of her for doing so- Riven could sense the sincerity in her words.

She could not bring herself to decline.

And here, alone, far away from the raging battles of a home she didn't deserve to call home, Riven had never felt so weak.

So powerless.

And despite whatever excuses she may have been able to give to justify her abstinence, Riven knew unequivocally that by not opposing Swain's Noxus, she'd given up all rights to call herself born of Noxus.

She could feel her own frustration building up, but did nothing to stop it. After everything Ionia and its people had given her – their shelter, their forgiveness – despite all her actions in the first war, despite her once-Noxian allegiance. After everything, she'd repaid them – _her_ – with cowardice, in their greatest time of need.

She was so. Fucking. Weak.

Riven growled, and channeled her self-directed fury into the first thing she laid eyes on, snapping a young sapling at its base as the tip of her foot smashed through the thin layer of bark it might have thought protection.

"I thought Ionians were supposed to be at peace with nature."

Riven spun around, her frustrated gaze quickly alighting on the source of the sardonic voice. "Katarina." She noticed the combat gear and belts of knives adorning the assassin. "I thought you were on house arrest." It wasn't a question. Riven carefully shifted into a battle stance.

Katarina held up her hands to indicate she was unarmed, though Riven was well aware of just how fast that could change. "I was. So were Talon and Cass. But the Ionians aren't taking any chances with the war this time around. They offered all of us 'pardons', for our support as freelancers in the war. And from what I've heard, they've gone all out on trying to recruit Syndra as well."

Riven nodded. Recently, someone had leaked the truth of Syndra's rise to power, and the truth had been shocking, in a word. That her ascension to the role of Dark Sovereign had been a direct result of the thievery of her childhood and shackling of her power, and not the malevolent lust for power the elder's had one proclaimed had shifted many perceptions dramatically. That someone with that information had held it secret for so long was abhorrent to Riven, and it seemed more than likely that it had been leaked out of necessity than any sort of moral goodwill (Which left Riven to believe it had to be the Kinkou responsible. They were the only group she could see being privy to that information, and the only group she could see willing to allow the vilification of a figure that powerful). The Ionian council of elders had nonetheless jumped on the opportunity, offering a public apology and acquittal of all crimes, as well as promising their support in tracking down the individuals responsible for her past. She didn't know if Syndra would be as forgiving, but if she did take up arms for Ionia on the battlefield, Riven firmly believed that would be one variable Swain had _not_ anticipated. Then she focused her attention back on Katarina.

"So you're willing to take up arms against your own nation, just like that?"

Katarina glared at her. "I have no love for Ionians, but I do have respect for them. That's more than I have for what Noxus has become. Besides…" she paused, and Riven could hear the venom dripping from Katarina's tongue. "High Command needs to pay for what they did to my father. And my mother. And my sister. And I will gladly take this opportunity to make them pay _in blood_. But I think the real question you should be asking is: why are _you_ here? This is your home more than mine. Why the fuck am_ I_ the one taking up arms to protect it?"

Riven turned away. "Maybe it's easy for you to forget, but I still remember what Noxus once was… and I still love that nation. Is it that easy for you to kill what you love?" Riven's vision spun as a vicious punch sent her sprawling. Katarina was standing over her, looking down with disgust.

"Wake up Riven. Noxus is dead. It was dead when it killed my father; it was dead when it tried to kill you. It was dead when it allowed Zaunite war machines to march beside us the first time to Ionia, and it was dead years before that as well. Noxus _died_ the moment Swain entered the city walls." The fury had evaporated from her expression, replaced by a sense of longing and regret. She extended her hand downwards, and Riven took it, allowing the assassin to pull her back up to her feet. "Noxus is dead Riven. Everything out there?" She made a broad sweeping gesture. "That's Swain's army now. The colours they fly died with their nation."

Riven stood silent for a moment, before stepping away from the assassin. Turning, she marched herself towards the largest, oldest tree in the grove. She picked up her runeblade from where it stood, propped against the ancient oak, and examined the weapon she'd cherished for so long. She sighed. "So long I've wandered… So much death…" Loss coloured Riven's voice. "All these years I've dreamed of a Noxus reforged, but… you're right. In the end, it was an empty dream. You can't reforge a blade once it's gone." She ran her fingers along the fractured edge of her weapon, feeling where it had once been whole. "I buried a piece of Noxus a long time ago." When she turned back to face Katarina, there was a fire burning in her eyes – one that been snuffed out by chemical wrath so many years ago, finally reignited. "I think it's time we lay what's left to rest."

Katarina grinned. "Talon and I will be operating behind their lines, dismantling their ranks from within. Cass won't be fighting – not right now at least – and I don't want her to. She's staying at one of those monasteries, learning some shit about being at peace with herself. I don't get it, but it seems to be helping her… As for you…" She smirked. "I don't _know_ anything, but if the rumours are anything to go by – and Cass says they are – then you already know exactly where you need to be."

Riven smiled. It wasn't a Noxian smile, but maybe she didn't need to be Noxian. She'd learned in her time here – with Irelia – that satisfaction and happiness didn't need to stem from bloodshed. "We'll invite you for supper once the war is over." And then she was gone, dashing through the forest.

Still in the grove, Katarina chuckled. "The captain of the Ionian guard… I would love to know how she landed _that_ one."

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><p><em>Dusk is still a thing, so to anybody who's worried I've dropped it... I haven't. I just suck at finding time to transfer words from notebook to laptop. I'm working on it.<em>

_I dunno if I wanna write more in this setting. I kinda like it, but at the same time, I think it ends at a good point. But who knows? I might reconsider. _

_For now however, Dusk is the main thing on my plate, and I'm hoping to make some headway on that transcription this weekend. I'm confined to barracks for the next ten days, so there should be plenty of time xD._

_Otherwise, thanks goes out once again to Aggression, for continuing to read all this crap, and to all of you reading it now, for the same reason. _

_And polish your damn oxfords. It's not worth the consequences not to :P_


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